


Candyfloss

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: ABDL, Age play little shows their kink to partner and partner is surprisingly into it, Diapers, Dry Humping, F/F, Kink Exploration, Mommy play, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Vibrators, bottle feeding, diaper wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: “So it wouldn’t be a fetish, then,” the Doctor said. “It’s a fetish if you need it for sexual pleasure, whereas a kink is somethin’ you enjoy, but isn’t necessary. Or were you imagining shenanigans?”"You usually… what. No, I don’t need to…” Yaz paused. “What?”“What what?” The Doctor looked back at her, and she looked equally confused.“I think I lost the plot,” said Yaz.“What plot?”Yaz admitted to an interest. Now to figure out where to go from there.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	Candyfloss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shnuffeluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/gifts).



> I absolutely _adored_ your prompt, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

"Doctor?" Yaz let her hand rest on the Doctor's bare flank, the tips of her fingers slipping in the Doctor's sweat. 

"Hm?" The Doctor was playing with Yaz's hair, twisting it around one finger, then letting it go, to twist it again. 

"Can I ask a weird question?" It was easy to talk like this, when she was loose limbed and post-coital, sweat drying on her skin. 

"Always," the Doctor said promptly, and that shouldn't have made Yaz blush quite so hard.

"D'you have any fetishes?" Yaz moved her hand up, her hand between the Doctor's breasts. The familiar double thump of the other woman's hearts was reassuring in its strangeness. It was almost familiar, after all the times they'd slept in the same bed, huddled for warmth, pressed close together in an alcove or a basement somewhere. 

It was sometimes strange, how the Doctor’s alienness became familiar. How something so alien could become so comforting. 

“Hm,” said the Doctor, and then she flopped back, staring at the ceiling. “I have no idea,” she said, her tone surprisingly chipper. 

“How d’you not know?” Yaz propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at the Doctor’s face. Her hair was a blond halo around her head on the pillow. Yaz was reminded of an art history course she’d taken, a picture of an icon of some saint. She couldn’t ever keep track of any of the details, but she remembered the gold leaf, catching the light even in the old slide. 

“There’s so much of me that’s just… new,” said the Doctor. She put her hands behind her head, which pushed her gorgeous breasts forward, and Yaz’s eyes followed the curve of them, licking her lips. The sheet tangled around her body only covered one breast, and the nipple of the bared one was getting hard in the cooler air. Yaz could almost feel it against her tongue, the Doctor’s breast soft against her lips. “So I don’t really know what I want until I try it.”

“Sounds like fun,” Yaz said, letting her hand drift along the Doctor’s belly, squeezing the soft padding of fat, then reached around, to tug the Doctor closer to her. “If you wanna explore that with me, I mean.”

“Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor said, tapping Yaz on the nose with the tip of her finger, “nothing would delight me more.”

She was half tempted to say something about her own… weird interests, but that would kill the mood. To say nothing of the way it would probably ensure that the Doctor never wanted to be intimate with her ever again. Maybe she’d even get kicked off the TARDIS.

“What are you thinkin’?” The Doctor pressed her thumb between Yaz’s eyebrows, and she sighed, letting her forehead relax.

“Nothin’,” she said, and she kissed the Doctor’s palm. “Nothing at all.” 

* * *

Yaz didn’t think much of the conversation until the two of them were chopping up vegetables for dinner. The Doctor had declared that she wanted some home cooking, and who was Yaz to deny her? 

“I like cooking,’ the Doctor said earnestly, as she peeled the ginger into a bowl. Her smile went nostalgic, and then she wrinkled her nose, looking pleased with herself. “Last time I used ginger, it weren’t for eating.”

“Hm?” Yaz raised an eyebrow, looking up from where she was chopping the garlic. 

“Remember that conversation we had, about fetishes?” The Doctor asked, and she asked it so _casually_ that it took Yaz’s a moment for her brain to catch up with what she’d said. 

“Mm?” She kept her tone casual as well. Her heart was beating very fast in her ears. 

“Realized I didn’t think to ask,” said the Doctor, “d’you have any? Or kinks, I suppose, since those are - oh, _Yaz_!”

There was a little bloom of pain on Yaz’s finger, and she looked down, surprised. “What?”

“You cut your finger,” the Doctor said, and she was grabbing Yaz’s wrist, shoving it into the sink. “What happened?” 

“I like nappies,” Yaz blurted out. 

The Doctor blinked, and turned the water on, putting Yaz’s bleeding finger under the water.

Yaz winced, tried to yank her hand back, but the Doctor held her in place, and didn’t say anything else. 

“And… other things,” Yaz added. “Stuff associated with. With that. Those.” She cleared her throat.

“D’you like disposable ones better, or cloth?” The Doctor was gently turning Yaz’s finger towards the water, so the water was falling directly on it. The blood trickled down the drain, and Yaz tried not to stare at it. She’d never been the best with her own blood. 

“What?” Yaz stared at the Doctor. 

“Nappies,” said the Doctor. “D’you like cloth ones better, or disposable? D’they have the self changing nappies in your time? No, I don’t think so.” She grabbed a dish towel, stuck it under the tap. “I think you might’ve nicked a vein, I’m sorry, Yaz.”

“Aren’t you…” Yaz was faintly dizzy. Was that the anxiety about the discussion? Or about the blood? “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m disgusting? Kick me out?”

The Doctor frowned. “What?” She pressed the wet cloth against Yaz’s finger, and Yaz hissed. _Ow_.

“I know… it’s disgusting,” Yaz said. “I mean.” She cleared her throat. “It’s probably a sign that I’m…” She trailed off, remembering all the different arguments against her stupid little secret she’d read. 

“Someone with a fetish?” The Doctor prompted. “You’re hardly the first.” She paused. “More of a kink, I’d think, since there haven’t been any nappies all the other times we’ve had sex, and as far as I could tell you were enjoying _those_.”

“Of course I was enjoying those,” Yaz said. 

“So it wouldn’t be a fetish, then,” the Doctor said. “It’s a fetish if you _need_ it for sexual pleasure, whereas a kink is somethin’ you enjoy, but isn’t _necessary_.” She pressed down a little harder. “Or were you imagining nappy related shenanigans?”

"You usually… what. No, I don’t need to…” Yaz paused. “What?” 

“What what?” The Doctor looked back at her, and she looked equally confused. 

“I think I lost the plot,” said Yaz. “Ow!” The Doctor pressed down harder on the cut, and Yaz tried to yank her hand back. 

“Stay still, it’ll make it clot faster,” the Doctor said absently. “What plot?”

“I told you my deep dark secret,” Yaz said. She’d never really thought about talking about this with… anyone, because. Well.

_Well_. 

“Yeah, but as deep dark secrets go it isn’t much of either,” the Doctor said. “If the deepest, darkest secret was the Marianas trench, yours would be... a birdbath.”

“A birdbath?!” Yaz wasn’t quite sure why she was so indignant. In theory, having the Doctor _not_ freak out at her was a good thing, right?

"You're not hurting anyone," the Doctor said. Her thumb was stroking across the back of Yaz's hand. "It's quite cute, actually."

Yaz blinked at her. "What?"

"Well," the Doctor amended, "I suppose I should tell you that _you're_ quite cute, actually, but I think I'd think that regardless." She squeezed the cut again, and Yaz winced. "D'you like being Little, too?"

"Um," Yaz said. Hearing the Doctor ask that was mind boggling. She was feeling some sort of emotion - if only she could catch up and figure out what it was. 

"You wouldn't be the first," the Doctor said. "I mean, obviously, humans have been finding interesting ways to make sex more complicated since you lot got out of the trees. But also just on the TARDIS." She met Yaz's eyes, and there was a sweetness in the back of them that made Yaz's chest ache. "I'm very old, y'know. Hard to shock. Been around the block a few times." Another pause. "The whole city, really. Not just the block. Unless it were a really big block." 

Yaz blushed, looked down at where the Doctor's hand was covering her own, then back into the Doctor's face. "I..." She licked her lips. "I think so," she said. "I mean, um..." She trailed off. "Didn't think I'd ever have this conversation," she said, and her voice was only a _little_ strangled. 

The Doctor let go of Yaz's hand, and patted the back of it. "I think that's closed up."

Yaz blinked down at her hand. It had, indeed, stopped bleeding. "We should probably get a plaster for that," the Doctor said. "Stay there." And then she was off, her boots thudding on the TARDIS floor like a drumbeat as she raced off to... wherever it was she was going. She wasn't wearing her coat, which spoiled it a bit - she always looked best with it trailing behind her like the tail of a comet. 

Yaz stood there in the kitchen, the water still running. _What just happened?_

She'd never told anyone her secret, since it was so... weird, and she'd always been afraid of people's reactions. 

And then the Doctor was back, and she was holding... was that a plaster? 

"Here we go," the Doctor said, and she was holding two different little squares of... plastic? "I've got the quick healing one, from the twenty third century. Pretty handy, you'll only have to wear the plaster for a few hours." She paused. "And I've got this one, which is from your time, but it has little dinosaurs on it." 

Yaz blinked. "Okay," she said slowly.

"Next time I get the chance, I'll get some cute plasters that heal quickly," the Doctor said earnestly, "but for now, which one d'you want?"

Yaz looked down at the two little rectangles. She could faintly make out the bright colors through the wrapping of the one. She licked her lips, looked into the Doctor's eyes, and saw no judgment. Then she looked back down at the plasters being offered. Nervously, she reached for the brightly colored plaster.

"Good choice," the Doctor said, and then she was... unwrapping it? "Let me see the injury, please." 

"I can do it myself," Yaz said, but she held her finger out.

The Doctor grabbed a dry dish towel and dabbed at the damp finger. "But I wanna," she said, and she made eye contact, then grinned. "It's what grown ups do for little kids, isn't it?" 

Yaz was frozen to the spot, as the Doctor carefully applied the plaster. The dinosaurs were brightly colored, dancing across the plastic of the plaster. It was wrapped tightly around her finger, and when it had been fully secured, the Doctor brought it up to her lips and _kissed_ it. 

_I have had this woman's tongue in my arse_ , Yaz thought dazedly. _How is this somehow the most embarrassing thing she's ever done to me?_

"All better?" The Doctor's lips moved against Yaz's bandaged finger. 

Yaz nodded mutely, her mouth dry. 

The Doctor let go of Yaz's hand, then pulled... 

"Is that a condom?" Yaz said before her mouth could catch up with her brain.

"Nope," the Doctor said, and she waved the little bit of blue rubber, then began to roll it over Yaz's bandaged finger. "Finger cot. So you don't have to worry about your plaster getting all mucky."

"Oh," said Yaz. "Right." She wasn't sure if she wanted to drop to her knees and call the Doctor "Mummy," or if she wanted to run very fast in the opposite direction. 

"What d'we say?" The Doctor looked at her expectantly, but her mouth was twitching, as if she was trying hard not to grin.

"Thank you," Yaz mumbled. 

"Very good," the Doctor said, and she patted Yaz on the cheek. Then she paused, and her expression went sheepish. "Sorry, was that too much?"

" _No_ ," Yaz said thickly. 

"That's good," the Doctor said brightly, and then she was... going back to the ginger?! "So did I tell you about the time I met the Marquis de Sade?" She wrinkled her nose. "Weird bugger, that one, and not even because of the sadism. Perfectly run of the mill sadism..."

Yaz let the Doctor's chatter wash over her, as she chopped the garlic, and every time her eye caught the blue finger cot, she smiled. 

* * *

A week later, the Doctor came to bed with her.

The other woman didn't sleep that often - she didn't need to, apparently, but sometimes she liked the company. There wasn’t much rhyme or reason why the Doctor decided, but it was always a pleasant surprise when she showed up at Yaz’s bedroom door, her expression expectant.

She had a bag this time, and she was smiling very widely. "Yaz," she said, and she sounded as delighted as ever. "Want some company?"

"Always," Yaz said, and she tried to keep herself from blushing too hard, as the Doctor walked into the room with her, shut the door behind them. She looked expectantly at Yaz. 

"D'you want me to put you in a nappy?" The Doctor asked, and again, so _casual_. Yaz had been in the middle of unplaiting her hair, and she froze.

"What?" 

"A nappy," the Doctor repeated. She held up the bag. "You mentioned you had an interest in them."

"Um," said Yaz. She was blushing.

The Doctor wrinkled her nose. "Should I have asked that different?" 

"I, uh," Yaz said, and she licked her lips. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I am," said the Doctor. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I feel like..." Yaz said. She looked down at her feet, then back up at the Doctor. "Why would you offer it?"

"I know you like it," said the Doctor. 

"Don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do," Yaz said quickly. "I know it's a weird thing that most people find disgusting, and I wouldn't want you to force yourself to do something that -"

"I like it too," the Doctor said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "The idea of takin' care of you, seeing you get all embarrassed... sounds like fun to me." She grinned, and her grin had taken on a slightly different cast, which made Yaz's belly go tight and her toes curl up. 

"Oh," Yaz said. "Well, um. If that's the... if you want to, then, uh..." She trailed off again. "Yes," she said, very quietly. 

"Well," said the Doctor, and she dropped the bag, rubbed her hands together. "Let's get you ready for bed then, shall we?"

"Ready for..." Yaz trailed off, and then it hit her. "Oh. Uh. Okay."

"If that's okay," the Doctor added quickly. "Sorry, am I jumping into this too quickly?"

"No," Yaz said, "No, it's just, uh, I've never... I've thought about this, but I've never... I've never done it. Or gone into any kinds of specifics." She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," the Doctor said, and she took Yaz's hands in her own, kissing the back of each one. "I want to take care of you," she said, and her voice had gone lower, husky. "I want to take care of my baby girl."

_Has she been at my browser history?_ Yaz thought dizzily. _Or maybe she's read my mind? She's telepathic, isn't she?_

Yaz was very... quiet, as the Doctor undressed her. She was mostly just absorbing it. It was different from all the other times she'd been undressed by the Doctor - no desperate, frenzied kissing, no slow, sensual removal of clothes. The Doctor grabbed the hem of Yaz's shirt, pulling it up and over Yaz's head, letting it fall on the floor. 

"I brought you some pajamas," the Doctor said helpfully. "Weren't sure if you had proper ones."

"Of course I've got pajamas," Yaz said, indignant enough to get drawn out of her submissive stupor. 

"What counts as _proper_ pajamas keeps changing," the Doctor said. "So I weren't sure if you'd have something all lace and bows, or if you slept without anything at all." 

"As cold as it gets in the TARDIS," Yaz said, and then she lost her train of thought, because the Doctor was pulling her sports bra off as well, and she was just... standing there, topless and in her trousers. 

The Doctor kneeled down in front of Yaz, and began untying Yaz's trainer. She looked up at Yaz, and the position was familiar. "Hands on my shoulders," she said, and her tone was one that brooked no argument.

Yaz's whole body clenched up, and she shivered, and did as she was instructed.

"There's my good girl," the Doctor said, her tone soothing. "Foot, please." 

Yaz lifted her foot up, and the shoe was taken off, then the sock.

"Other foot," said the Doctor, and Yaz presented it. "Good girl," as the shoe and the sock were pulled off as well. "There we go." She unbuttoned and unzipped Yaz's trousers, hooking her fingers into the belt loops, and she pulled them down. She took Yaz's knickers with them, and then Yaz was just... standing there in her bedroom, her trousers around her ankles. She stepped out, and then she was... just... standing there naked. 

_Oh fuck._

"Now," said the Doctor, and she leaned over, unzipping the bag and taking out a blue pajama top, "let's get you ready." She stood up, still holding the shirt open, and Yaz stuck her arm into the arm hole. 

“I can do it myself,” Yaz said, although she wasn’t sure why. What if she scared the Doctor off from… whatever this was?

“You’re too little for all those buttons,” the Doctor said, and she began to do them up. 

_Oh fuck_. 

Yaz didn’t have an answer to that. She stood there, her eyes darting from the Doctor’s fingers carefully pushing the little black buttons into the holes. It was a deep blue fabric, the same blue of the TARDIS, and it was speckled over with stars. 

The pajama top was too big, and the sleeves fell over her hands. She was balling them into fists, then relaxing them, shifting from foot to foot. She wasn’t sure what to… do. 

“Okay,” said the Doctor, and her face was faintly sheepish. “I haven’t done this in a while, so bear with me.” 

Yaz let herself be guided to lie flat on her back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Or her legs, for that matter. She fiddled with the hem of her pajama shirt, and she bit her lip, curling her toes against each other.

“Oops,” said the Doctor, and Yaz’s heart sank. 

_She’s going to tell me she changed her mind._

A hand closed around Yaz’s ankle, and it dragged her to the edge of the bed, so that her legs were dangling off of the edge of the bed. “Sorry ‘bout that,” the Doctor said. “Always forget how long legs are.”

“Um,” said Yaz. _She can see how wet I am_ , she thought. _Could she see me clench when she did that?_

“That were a problem for me,” the Doctor said, and there were… sounds. Cloth rustling sounds, plastic sounds. The Doctor was bending down, and Yaz bit her lip. She was shaking, and her chest was rising and falling as she tried to keep track of her own breath. Her heart was beating in her ears, and her mouth was very dry. 

Yaz jumped at the touch of something cool on her thigh, and she looked down the line of her own body. 

The Doctor was sprinkling baby powder, then smoothing it in. the familiar scent washed up to her, and her toes were curling again. Then it was being rubbed into Yaz’s vulva, and it was almost… ticklish.

“There’s my good girl,” the Doctor said, her voice soothing. “Why don’t you suck your thumb?” The Doctor gave Yaz’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’do it in your sleep, didja know that?” 

“Oh,” Yaz mumbled. “I didn’t… realize.” 

“Wouldn’t think you would, bein’ asleep” the Doctor said, and she gave Yaz’s vulva another pat. “But when I were newly regenerated, my legs weren’t long enough! Of course, now they’re the exact right size. If I’m taller next regeneration, I might end up with legs that are _too_ long, isn’t that how it always goes?” 

Yaz let her thumb slip into her mouth, her eyes fluttering closed at the soothing familiarity. The Doctor’s voice drifted over her, and she let it. She sucked her thumb, and she drifted. It was… embarrassing, for the Doctor to see her all spread out like this, all _helpless_ , but she was always helpless compared to the Doctor, wasn’t she? She was just a human, and the Doctor was so much _more_.

“I’m gonna need you to lift your hips,” the Doctor said, and she patted Yaz on the thigh again. “There we go, good girl.” 

Yaz lifted her hips, her eyes still closed. “Good girl, here we go, back down…” 

There was more powder under her backside, and the Doctor was mumbling to herself as she carefully fiddled with the thick fabric between Yaz's legs. 

"There... we... go," the Doctor murmured, and there was yet more powder. "Oops," she said again. "Overdid the powder. And probably should have put a towel down." The Doctor tugged the fabric, then patted Yaz's hip again. "You're off center," she said.

"Sorry," Yaz mumbled around her thumb, and awkwardly lifted herself up. It was hard to do, when she had her legs dangling down like that. 

"Not your fault," the Doctor said. "Okay, back down, there we go... much better." 

There was fabric being pulled between Yaz's legs, and she squirmed, looking down again, and... oh. 

"Weren't sure if you wanted disposables or cloth," the Doctor said, as she carefully pinned one side of the nappy, then the other. "Figure I'd start with what I've got the most experience with. Didja know disposables aren't actually that common, historically?" She patted the front of it, then frowned. "Hips up."

Yaz obediently lifted her hips up, as... another nappy was put under her backside, and then she was back down again, and the Doctor was pulling it up again, between her legs, and pinning _that_ one. It was thick enough that Yaz couldn't fully close her legs.

_You're wearing a nappy like a baby_ , whispered some deep, desperate part of her, and she shivered, arousal flushing through her like water through a pipe. 

The Doctor patted the crotch of the nappy, and then she leaned forward, pushing Yaz's shirt up and kissing Yaz's belly. She blew a loud, wet raspberry, and Yaz _shrieked_ around the thumb in her mouth, squirming and giggling, and the Doctor rubbed her cheek against the soft skin. "You're so cute," the Doctor said. 

Yaz would have pressed her thighs together, if she could, but the Doctor was still between them. "I'm not," she mumbled.

"You are," the Doctor said, and she kissed Yaz's belly again. "You're so soft and warm and cuddly, and you try so hard to be big and strong, but we both know that inside you're just a little baby, aren't you?"

Yaz whimpered, and she covered her eyes with both hands. It was an instinctive thing, but it was making the Doctor chuckle. 

"You're so _cute_ ," she said, and she sounded genuinely enchanted. "I mean, you're sexy and clever and funny and brave and kind, but... _cute_!" She gave Yaz's cheek a pinch, then stood up again, going to rummage through the bag. 

"Thank you," Yaz murmured, not really paying attention. The cushy softness between her legs was... downright plush, and she pressed her legs together... or at least, she tried to. Her thighs couldn't touch, and she bit her lip, squirmed a little harder. 

"There we go," said the Doctor, and she was holding up... what was that. "Waterproof pants," she told Yaz, when their eyes met. "To make sure there aren't any leaks."

"Aren't any... oh." Yaz blushed. 

The plastic was crinkly and smooth as it made its way up her legs, and she lifted her hips yet again, for the Doctor to settle them around her hips. The plastic was light blue, printed with little animals, and the Doctor fussed with the waistband, then helped her sit up. "Look at _you_ , all ready for bed," the Doctor said. "Well, not all ready. Let's get you some bottoms on, you'll get cold. And you need to brush your teeth. But almost all ready, and almost is a good first step!"

Yaz let the Doctor pull her trousers up her legs, let the Doctor slide fuzzy socks onto her feet. She wriggled her toes in them and she relaxed into the bed, sucking her thumb, and then the Doctor flopped onto the bed next to her. The Doctor was lying on her side, her arm tucked under her head. She smiled at the Doctor, bashful, and the Doctor smiled back.

"Ready to finish gettin' ready?" The Docked tucked a loose piece of hair behind Yaz's ear.

Yaz nodded. 

"Well," said the Doctor, "can't do that while lying down, can we?" 

"I thought you were gonna make a joke about how we can't take it lying down," Yaz said.

"That'd be the expected joke," the Doctor agreed, "but I never do what's expected, do I?" 

Yaz, her thumb still in her mouth, shook her head. 

"Let's brush teeth, unplait your hair," the Doctor said, and she helped Yaz sit up, "and then bedtime."

Yaz nodded. 

"D'you need help brushing your teeth, baby?" The Doctor asked it so... matter of factly, and it made Yaz squirm harder. 

"No," Yaz said. “Thank you,” she added, as an afterthought. Standing up made the nappy more obvious - her legs were more spread than usual, and when she took a step forward, she was waddling. 

_Fuck_. 

“Good girl.” The Doctor patted Yaz on the backside. It was a cushy sound, and _I’m wearing a nappy_ fell through Yaz’s head again, floating like a feather on the wind. 

Oh fuck.

* * *

Yaz brushed her teeth, while the Doctor stood behind her, carefully unplaiting her hair. She let the Doctor brush it out, and she leaned back, intensely aware of the cushioning between her backside and the Doctor’s legs. 

She stood there, keeping her eyes down, because it’d be too embarrassing to meet her own gaze right now. Her mouth tasted of mint, and her heart was beating very loudly in her ears. 

“There we go,” the Doctor said, and she patted Yaz on the backside. “Go get comfy on the bed, I just need to do something.”

“Okay,” Yaz said quietly, and then she was walking back to bed. No, wait, she was _waddling_ , and she was _thinking_ about it. She pulled the blankets back, and then she was climbing in, curling her toes in her thick socks. 

She was in an odd sort of place - aroused, but some flavor of _calm_ , as if she was wrapped in candyfloss. She half wanted to slide a hand down the front of the nappy and rub her clit until she came with a gush and a sob. 

But that didn’t seem right. That didn’t seem like a thing to do now, did it? She just lay here, listening to the quiet noises of the Doctor doing whatever it was that she was doing. Her eyes slid shut, and she just… drifted. 

“D’you want a drink?” The Doctor’s voice was soft, and it pulled Yaz out of her daze. She blinked, looking over at the Doctor. The lights had been dimmed at some point, and the Doctor had taken her coat off and rolled her sleeves up.

“Drink?” Yaz blinked, sat up on one elbow. Her head was all foggy, and so was her mouth. 

The Doctor held up… oh. 

Yaz pressed her thighs together - or at least, tried to - biting her lip. That was _definitely_ a baby bottle printed with little blue elephants, full of water. “Is that for me?” 

“Wouldn’t be for me,” the Doctor said, and she smiled. “Bottles like this are for babies, and I’m not a baby, am I?” 

“No,” Yaz agreed. 

“But _you_ are, aren’t you?” The Doctor was still grinning. 

Yaz nodded. She was going to die of embarrassment. Or maybe she’d combust out of sheer arousal. 

“D’you think you’re big enough to hold it? Or do you need me to give it to you?”

Oh _fuck_. 

“You,” Yaz managed to mumble out. 

“Good girl,” the Doctor said, and she kissed Yaz’s head. 

There were a few minutes of rearranging, and then Yaz's head was resting on the Doctor's chest, and the nipple of the bottle was in Yaz's mouth. The Doctor tilted the bottle back, and Yaz let herself drink, her eyes fluttering closed. The Doctor's hearts were beating right up against her ear, and the Doctor's breast was soft against her cheek. She was in some safe, quiet place, arousal thudding through her distantly, her whole body pleasantly heavy. 

The Doctor was murmuring quietly, and her voice was vibrating through Yaz's head, a pleasant buzz. Yaz couldn't really make out what it was that the Doctor was saying, but that didn't seem to matter. The Doctor was stroking along the line of her profile, over her nose, between her eyebrows. Yaz fell asleep, the bottle still in her mouth.

* * *

Yaz woke up to more dim light, her head fuzzy and her bladder full. The Doctor was still in bed with her, still sitting up, and there was the occasional sound of a page turning.

Yaz flailed upright, squirming, and found her legs bare. She was warm, her hair sticking to her neck with sweat, and her eyes were grainy, tender. She blinked at the Doctor, and saw the Doctor looking back at her. 

"It isn't time to get up yet, baby," the Doctor said, her voice quiet. The way she said "baby" made Yaz's whole body clench up like a fist. "It's still nighttime."

"I had a dream," Yaz mumbled. "It was so warm..." She must have kicked her pajama bottoms off in her sleep, and then she was kicking the blankets off too. 

"Are you still dry?" The Doctor's hand came down to press down on the crotch of the nappy, and it was thick enough that Yaz could barely feel the pressure of it. 

"Yeah," Yaz mumbled. 

"Do you need to go?" The Doctor's voice was gentle, but Yaz still shuddered all over. She wasn't even thinking as she squirmed on top of the Doctor, straddling on thigh and pressing her face into the Doctor's neck. 

The Doctor grunted, and she put her book to the side. Her hands sank into Yaz's loose hair, and then she was kissing Yaz, wet and soft and sweet. Yaz broke it, to pant into the Doctor's neck, and then she groaned, as the Doctor's thigh pressed against her clit through all the thick, cushy padding.

"You like that, baby?" The Doctor cooed, and her fingers ran through Yaz's hair. "You like riding my thigh like that?"

Yaz's hips rutted forward, her knees pressing into either side of it. She pressed her forehead lower, into the curve of the Doctor's breast, and the Doctor's nipple was hard against her cheek. She turned her face towards it, mouthing it awkwardly, and the Doctor hissed through her teeth. 

"Good girl," the Doctor said, her voice only a little rough. "Such a good girl."

"Mummy," Yaz blurted out, and then froze. _Oh no._ "Shit, I'm sorry, I -"

"What do you want from Mummy?" The Doctor cupped Yaz's cheek, thumbing her cheekbone. "Ask nicely, and maybe you'll get it."

"Mummy, your shirt, can you..." Yaz fruitlessly pushed it upwards, getting tangled up with the braces.

The Doctor sat up, her collarbone pressing into Yaz's nose. She fumbled her braces off, and then she was pushing the two t-shirts up. The Doctor's nipple was hard against her lips, and the Doctor gave a hiccupy, choked little moan when Yaz latched on to it. 

"Good girl," the Doctor crooned, and her fingers were tugging on Yaz's hair now, right by the root. 

Yaz squirmed closer, until her own knee was pressed against the seam of the Doctor's trousers. She pressed forward, rolling her hips, and she sucked, her eyes fluttering closed. She held on to the Doctor's other breast with her other hand, kneading it awkwardly. The nipple was hard against her palm, and her fingers were slipping with sweat. 

The Doctor's hips were jerking against her, and Yaz was grinding so awkwardly, barely getting any stimulation, as thick as the nappies were, but she could hear the quiet crinkle of the plastic pants, and the cushy heaviness between her legs, _knowing_ that she was humping the Doctor's leg in a nappy, knowing she was sucking the Doctor's nipple like a baby, she was making the Doctor feel good with her knee, with her mouth. 

"Yaz, good girl, such a good girl," the Doctor was babbling, and her hips were thrusting forward harder now, full on grinding on Yaz's knee. The Doctor was holding her tightly, and she was shaking like a leaf. 

_Mummy_ , Yaz thought, and she pressed down harder with her knee, her tongue moving across the Doctor’s nipple. She was humping awkwardly, her thighs squeezing Yaz’s tightly, and her hearts were going faster, sweat dripping down her face. 

Yaz was in that same place she’d been before, wrapped in candyfloss. She didn’t need to think about what she was doing, didn’t need to worry about anything. She was here to make the Doctor feel good, here to be a good girl for Mummy. And that was what she was going to do, with her mouth, with her knee, with her fingers. The Doctor’s little words of affirmation and horny little noises all seemed to be blending together, and the Doctor’s hearts beating under Yaz’s ear was as soothing as a lullaby. Yaz floated, switching between nipples occasionally, and she let herself drink in the scent of the Doctor’s skin and the warmth of her body. 

The Doctor came, gasping and shaking, her mouth thrown open. She arched her back, forcing her hips into Yaz’s thigh, and then she sagged against the pillows, staring down over her bunched up shirts into Yaz’s eyes. “Good girl,” she said, breathless. “Such a good girl for Mummy, aren’t you?” She brought Yaz’s face up to her own, and then they were kissing again, kissing, and Yaz was being pushed onto her back, to lie splayed out on the bed, staring up into the Doctor’s face. 

“Good girls get nice things,” the Doctor said. Her trousers were drooping, as her braces slipped over her shoulders. Her shirts were covering her breasts up again, and her hair was forming a curtain between the two of them. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?”

Yaz nodded, and clutched at the Doctor’s shoulder, her fingers fisting in the fabric. The thumb of her other hand went into her mouth, and she gasped as the Doctor’s knee pressed against the thick fabric of the nappy.

“We should get you a dummy,” said the Doctor, and she was leaning over, grabbing… something from the bedside drawer. 

“D’you want me to stop sucking my thumb?” Yaz pulled it out, letting her thumbnail rest on her lower lip. 

“I just think you’d look adorable with a dummy,” the Doctor said, as if she was admitting something. “They have cute ones with little animals on the… bit at the front. The bit that isn’t the nipple.” She wrinkled her nose, a line forming between her eyebrows as she clearly tried to remember. 

Yaz reached out, pressing her thumb against it, and the Doctor grinned and kissed the palm of Yaz’s hand. 

“Cheeky baby,” she said, and then… she was pressing something between Yaz’s legs. It was the wand vibrator, the hefty white one that she’d found in one of the TARDIS toy boxes. “Mummy’s good girl is getting a nice treat, isn’t she?”

And then she turned the toy on.

The buzzing was strong enough that she could feel it through the thick nappy, and she humped forward, pressing herself against it, forcing it against her clit. She stared up at the Doctor, her thumb still in her mouth, and her teeth dug into the meat of her hand. The buzzing was loud enough that it seemed to cut through her head like a jackhammer, and she was so _close_ , she was almost there already.

How was she so close already?

“Come for Mummy, be a good girl and come for Mummy, there you go…” The Doctor pressed the head of the toy against Yaz’s, and it was leaving a dent in the nappy, it was making the whole nappy vibrate, and she was _so_ close.

“M-M-Mummy,” Yaz gasped out, and then her orgasm broke inside of her like a wave, and she was shaking, her cunt pulsing around nothing. Her hips jerked, the plastic pants rustling, the thick, cushy nappies keeping her legs further open. She flopped back against the pillows, shaking, and she let her thumb fall out of her mouth.

The Doctor turned the vibrator off, and she pressed closer to Yaz. She cupped Yaz’s face in her hands and they kissed, slow and soft and sweet, her tongue probing Yaz’s mouth, her fingers soft as they pressed into Yaz’s temples, her cheeks. “Look at you,” she cooed against Yaz’s mouth. “Mummy’s good girl.”

Yaz shifted, and her bladder… twinged. She bit her lip, pressing her forehead against the Doctor’s, and she whimpered. “Mummy,” she mumbled. “I…”

“What’s up?” The Doctor tucked a sweaty piece of hair behind Yaz’s ear. 

“I need to go,” Yaz whispered. “I have to…” She shifted, tried to relax. 

No luck.

“Do you need to go potty, baby?” The Doctor’s tone took on a condescending, sweet note that made Yaz’s toes curl in her fluffy socks. 

“I have to go,” Yaz repeated.

“You’re all ready for it, baby,” the Doctor said. “Look, see, you’ve got a nice thick nappy, and I’ll change you as soon as you’re done, get you nice and dry. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Yaz nodded, but she was still squirming “I don’t… what if it leaks?” Her throat was dry, and her voice cracked.

“Then we’ll do laundry and have a shower,” the Doctor said. “Won’t be the first time the TARDIS had a wet bed.” She was grinning. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

Yaz nodded. 

“You’re not gonna leak,” the Doctor said, “and even if you do, we’ll clean it right up.” 

“I don’t… know if I can,” Yaz mumbled. She was trying to force herself to relax, trying to loosen up… whatever those valves were, that let her let go.

Nothing.

“Close your eyes,” the Doctor instructed, and Yaz did what she’d been told. “Just listen to the sound of my voice. You’re safe, and you’re going to go for Mummy, so that we can clean you up. It’s not good to hold it in like that, you’re going to let go…” She pressed her forehead against Yaz’s, rubbed their noses together. “You’re going to go for Mummy, you want to be a good girl for Mummy, don’t you?”

Yaz nodded, bit her lip, and she was shaking. She thought about streams, waterfalls, faucets. She slid her thumb into her mouth again, and she concentrated on the sensation of her tongue on her thumbnail, of her teeth digging in.

“Good girl,” the Doctor said.

Yaz was pissing, right into the nappy, a rush of warmth and wetness between her legs, dripping down to her arse, soaking into the nappy. She was whimpering quietly, shaking. The flow slowed down to a trickle, and then she was empty, the nappy swelling between her legs.

“Such a good girl,” the Doctor said, and she was holding Yaz’s face. “I’m so proud of you, Yaz. you did so good. How’s that feel?” 

Yaz bit her lip, trying to think, trying to wrap her mind around it. _I wet myself like a baby_ , she thought, and she wasn’t even sure what the emotion running through her was, except that it wrapped around her like candyfloss and squeezed her tight. 

“It feels good,” Yaz said, and she didn’t know if she meant the nappy, the fact that they’d done this, or… any of it, but she meant every word of it.


End file.
